


past the limit

by sulfate



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Sparring, actually there IS a plot and that plot is They Are In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21743062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sulfate/pseuds/sulfate
Summary: Galo's spent his whole life running towards fire.
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 34
Kudos: 520





	past the limit

**Author's Note:**

> alternate summary: i watched promare and now i believe in true love

Lio never officially moves in. After the dust from Parnassus had settled Lio came home with Galo. It was only right. And there was also something Galo couldn’t explain, some leftover connection from piloting together that tugged at his ribs like a spring pulled taut and insisted he keep Lio close. He’d guess Lio felt the same, since he’d gone with Galo so readily. Every day since then Lio’s come home with Galo. Now he’s staked a claim over half of Galo’s wardrobe and they jostle elbows brushing their teeth in front of the bathroom mirror in the morning and Galo has no real idea what they’re doing, but it seems to be working. There are more important things to worry about, anyway. 

Like the rebuilding effort. Like _Lio._ See, sometimes Lio’ll be standing in the middle of the Burning Rescue locker room, or on the pavement outside HQ where there’s an unobstructed view of the nearest volcano, or in the doorway of Galo’s apartment, and he’ll get this look. It’s hard to explain. A week after they saved the world, they’d crammed into Aina’s place for dinner, Burning Rescue along with its newly-minted members. Aina had this huge pressure cooker going on the stove (Galo’s kitchen is kitted out with induction cooktops because he’s here to stop fires, not _start_ them), the vent weight rattling against the lid in constant cheerful background noise, peppered with whistles of steam. 

First Galo thought Lio was watching the pot, which kind of made sense; probably he hadn’t gotten much use out of kitchens while being an internationally-wanted terrorist fugitive on the run. Then he followed the angle of Lio’s line of sight to the blue gas fire licking at the pot base. Lio didn’t look sad, or even longing. Just flat, like all the depth had gone out of his face. It was bone-deep wrong on Lio. Galo’d take anything over that careful lack of expression, even the lofty condescension Lio’d projected from the throne back when they first met-slash-beat-the-shit-out-of-each-other. 

So: the Burning Rescue gym today. Galo walks in warmed-up and ready for leg day, and comes up short against the tense, almost injured set to Lio’s shoulders where he’s standing on the edge of the mats marking out the sparring area. When Galo catches sight of Lio’s face there’s that same awful blankness, and Galo hates it, so he blurts out, “Wanna fight?”

Lio blinks, weirdly slow, like he’s only just registering Galo’s presence in the room. “What?”

“Wanna fight?” Galo repeats obligingly. “Since I’m here, and you look like you need a partner. Can’t spar against yourself, right?”

Already some of the light is coming back into Lio’s face. Score! “Galo,” Lio says, “if you wanted to fight me, you could have just said so.”

Galo laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, only if you’re down for it.”

“Alright,” Lio says. He straightens up. That’s one of the things Galo likes so much about him, the unflinching way he meets a challenge. “Alright, let’s go.”

So Galo steps onto the mats, facing Lio, and drops into a low opening stance. The thing is, Lio is tiny. Losing the Promare flames meant he’d lost basically all of his physical advantages, so he’s been spending a lot of his spare time training up at the gym. He and Gueira and Meis have their own entries on the team's gym scoreboard—looks like Lucia is winning this week. Whenever Galo drops in Lio is usually already there, sparring with Gueira or Meis on the mats. Remi, once. Not Galo, not since their fight in the carrier. Lio’d had his flames, then, and Galo had his Matoi tech.

Galo doesn’t have the benefit of the long history Lio shares with Gueira and Meis, but he’s fought Lio, and fought by Lio, and the fight doesn’t lie. He knows Lio by the weight of his fist, the glitter of his bared teeth, that incredible intensity twice the size of his actual body. The two of them moving in perfect unthinking tandem in Deus Ex Machina. So he _knows_ Lio. He can say that with certainty. And he keeps learning more about him every day, what Lio looks like bleary with unshed sleep in the mornings, lit up in anticipation of a good meal, every detail stowed safely away in the part of Galo's mind that stands guard over these things alongside the bright sound of Aina's laugh, the pattern of Varys' purposeful gait, the glint of Lucia's eyes when she's working on a particularly challenging tech upgrade, the strong line of Captain Ignis' back, the slant of Remi's shoulders in a plain shirt.

Lio ducks a punch and catches Galo across the jaw with a neat uppercut. Galo isn’t the type to hold back, and Lio’d murder him if he did anyway, and it’d be rude not to give it his all, even on principle alone. Lio's still whip-thin, light on his feet, dynamite focus, but Galo has height and build on him, and in a battle of physical strength alone it'd be hard for Galo to lose. 

He gets Lio in a hold around the midsection. Lio wrenches free with a furious burst of force, elbow sharp to Galo's ribs--that's going to bruise, later. Sharp grin, one Galo feels his cheeks pulling up to mirror. _There_ he is. 

"This enough for your burning soul?" Lio calls.

"My soul will _never_ burn out," Galo says, punching the air. "I'm just getting started!"

Galo's combat training is geared towards conflict de-escalation, subdue and neutralise, repertoire of holds and blocks, countering every blow Lio lands. Another hold, more firm, Lio's wrists shifting in Galo's grip. Like this he can feel the pulse hot under Lio' skin, under his own skin. Blood singing them to life.

Lio's eyes narrow. An out-of-place deliberation to the movement. All of Lio totally still, body radiating the heat of exertion. Galo tenses in preparation for another attempt to break free. 

Lio kisses him. 

Galo says something really smart like “Mmmfhgh!” and on reflex flails backwards, tripping and landing on his ass in the most stunning display of lack of coordination he’s demonstrated since he was a toddler, probably. He stares up at Lio. Lio stares back at him, growing steadily pinker as the seconds elongate.

“ _Galo,_ ” Lio hisses, flush glittering high over his cheekbones, and it’s enough to snap Galo out of his daze. He leaps up, yells, “Sorry!” and grabs Lio’s collar to haul him in again. 

This time the kiss actually connects for longer than two seconds. Lio's mouth is sweet and hot and vicious, teeth scraping along Galo's bottom lip, tongue flicking over the roof of Galo's mouth. His fingers twine in Galo's hair, pushing him closer, closer.

“We should—” Galo manages, breaking away just long enough to get the words out. “We should take this back to my place?” 

Luckily Galo’s apartment is right next to Burning Rescue HQ. If he had to keep his hands off Lio for any longer than that he actually might die. As soon as Galo gets the front door open he wastes no time pulling Lio to his bedroom.

Lio pushes him backwards onto the bed and crawls over him, glint to his eyes. Involuntarily, Galo gulps. Lio’s knees bracket Galo’s ribcage, palms planted on the mattress to either side of Galo’s head, the curtain of his hair swinging forward. His face hovering above Galo’s, close enough that Galo could tug him down if he wanted to, so Galo reaches up and cups a hand over the back of Lio’s neck and pulls him in to kiss him. And Lio obliges, mouth soft, the softest part of him, and all Galo can think is, _why the hell didn't we do this sooner?_ He must say it out loud, because Lio huffs, an amused crinkle to his eyes, and says, "Less talking, more getting these clothes off," and Galo scrambles to comply.

Even back when they were enemies Galo thought Lio was beautiful in the way that a wickedly sharp knife was beautiful, because it carried out what it was made to do really, really well. Lio’s single visible eye through the crack in his mask that Galo had put there, light from his flames flickering pale pink and green over the exposed half of his face. Galo has always been a bit too fond of things that could kill him.

Now divested of his shirt and pants, Galo's hands skim down to Lio's waist to help him with the riddle of his trousers. So many finicky straps and buckles. Why does Lio need three separate belts even for a workout? They look amazing on him but it’s hell to wrestle them off him. Galo lets out a noise of frustration. He has neither the fine motor control nor the patience to undo all of these one by one, but he slides a finger under a buckle and Lio laughs, just a soft breathy exhale, and guides Galo’s hand by the wrist to the hidden zipper tucked beside it.

After that it's much easier to make short work of Lio's clothes and Galo can run appreciative hands over the expanse of skin bared to him. He kisses Lio again, because he wants to, and because Lio's hands are insistent on his jaw.

"I wanna suck you off," Galo says, all in a rush. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Lio says immediately, voice surprisingly rough, "yeah, fuck—"

Lio scoots over to the edge of the bed so Galo can settle between the open vee of Lio's legs and kiss a line up the inside of thigh from the pulse ticking over at the femoral to the base of Lio's cock, flushed hard and already beading up with precome. Lio's hand curls around his shoulder. Galo smiles against the crease of Lio's thigh, and without warning gets his mouth around Lio's cock.

In surprise, Lio's fingers dig into the muscle of Galo's shoulder, satisfyingly hard, and Galo breathes in through his nose and takes Lio in deeper, the warm salt weight of him in his mouth. He hasn't had a lot of practice with this, hopes to make up for it with enthusiasm. Instinctive tears prick his eyes as Lio's cock hits the back of his throat but Galo's determined to do it right. He draws back, flicks his tongue around the head of Lio's cock, relishing the way Lio's thighs jerk under his hands, the tiny sounds escaping the cage of Lio's throat, like he's used to trying to stay quiet. Could be a fun challenge for next time. How to get Lio unwound enough to be loud.

When Galo glances up Lio's eyes are liquid dark between his pale lashes, the hand that isn't clinging onto Galo fisted white-knuckled in the sheets. Red spilling all the way down his chest. Galo swallows Lio back down, bobbing his head along the shaft.

Lio shifts his hand upwards, tugs at the hair near the base of Galo's skull. "Galo," Lio pants, strain sandpapering his voice, "you need to—I'm gonna—"

Galo pulls off and Lio wraps a hand around the base of his cock. "You can if you want," Galo starts, but Lio shakes his head.

"I want to come with you inside me," Lio says, which, _holy fuck,_ okay, Galo can definitely do that.

It's hard to keep track of what happens next. Galo is so desperately turned on even breathing burns his lungs, smoke inhalation type of dizziness. Lio's long, slim fingers glistening with lube, working himself open. Lio, palm to Galo's sternum, pushing him flat against the mattress again. The loud noise that leaves Galo's throat when Lio sinks down on him, hands gripping Lio's hips to brace him in position. Lio's hands clutching at his fingers when he bottoms out, fully seated on Galo's cock, lips parted on a wet gasp. 

“I’ve got you," Galo says, reassures, and Lio gives an experimental roll of his hips that drags a groan out of Galo from somewhere deep in his belly, the shock of sensation shorting out Galo's sight for a moment. 

"Come on," Lio challenges, "come on, you can move," so Galo moves and Lio responds, fucking himself open on Galo's cock, slick slide of skin. 

Scratch the Promare, Lio’s a supernova. That explosive intensity coiled just under his skin, like if Galo put a hand square between his shoulders he could detonate him. His eyes all pupil, only a sliver of purple iris visible. Hair in electrified disarray. Galo wants to run a hand through it, so he reaches up and does just that, sieving the fine, sweat-damp strands through his fingers, watching Lio's eyes slip shut.

Galo barely has the brainspace to admire the flex of Lio's lean thighs, the strain collecting at the base of Lio's spine. He slides his palm up the small of Lio's back, soothing the tremor of muscles under warm skin, Lio's whole body curving like a crossbow, outline of his ribcage pressing out. Keeps pushing his hips up to meet Lio, whose rhythm is rapidly growing sloppy, agitated. Galo wraps his other hand around Lio's cock, strokes as Lio grinds down against him, all instinct, all sensation, chasing his release.

Lio's near-silent when he comes, tensing around Galo and spilling over Galo's hand, mouth going lax. Galo slows to let Lio ride the aftershocks out, and then Lio grabs Galo's hand by the wrist, brings it to his mouth and licks Galo's palm clean of his own come with the same razor-fine focus he'd turned to their fight, which is so surreally hot that Galo does not stand a chance. He comes _instantly_.

When his vision swims back into focus Lio looks wrecked, hair mussed, skin flushed, and hey, Galo did that. Still feeling stunned and also stupidly tender, he helps Lio off, swipes a thumb through his come trickling out of Lio down Lio's thigh, a sight that's nearly enough to make his dick twitch in interest again, and Lio promptly flops down on the bed beside him. Galo shoves his face against the sweaty hollow of Lio’s throat. One of Lio’s hands comes up to rest against the back of his head, but there’s no pressure from the touch. Just Lio keeping him close. Galo closes his teeth over Lio’s collarbone, enjoying the surprised breath that hisses out of Lio.

“You are literally a dog,” Lio says, in the most halfassed attempt at disgust Galo has ever seen from him. Galo grins and licks over the bite for good measure.

“Universe’s number one dog,” Galo says. “Number one _firefighting_ dog,” he corrects, because it’s important.

When he glances up at Lio, there’s an unmistakeable softness in the curl to Lio’s mouth. “Idiot,” Lio says. The hand on Galo’s head slides upwards. It’s a bit like he’s petting Galo’s hair, which is nice. “Should I get you a collar?”

“You're the expert on all the buckles stuff,” Galo says. "You tell me."

Lio says, “Hmm,” in a tone of voice that tells Galo he’s not done thinking about it. That's a fun thought. Galo would also love to keep thinking about it when his brain comes back online, but that will have to be later.

There’s a lull, two sets of breathing the only sounds expanding into the room, Lio’s heartbeat settling into steadiness near Galo’s ear. He doesn’t want to be parted from Lio ever again. 

The Mad Burnish, they stuck by Lio even if it would’ve cost them their lives, because Lio would have done the same for any one of them. Galo understands loyalty. Body on the line for whatever pure thing you loved, throwing yourself headfirst into the fire. And that was Lio, too, mouth set, eyes hard, wagering his life against the lives of every other Burnish and just fucking daring the universe to let him come up empty-handed. What a sight he’d been, descending on Promepolis wrapped in a dragon of flame, all that incandescent fury and grief crystallising around him. What a fight he’d been.

“You remembered my name,” Galo says. “Back in the cave. What was that, the second time we met?”

“Of course I did,” Lio says. “You’re a difficult person to forget, Galo Thymos. You weren’t afraid of me at all. Even Freeze Force, I could tell they were scared. But you weren’t.”

“Nah,” Galo says. “I see a fire, I put it out. That’s all there’s ever been to it. ‘Sides, I was right about you.”

“Were you now.”

“You’re not gonna ask me what?”

The smile is audible in Lio's voice. “I thought you’d already have a speech prepared. Am I wrong?"

Galo laughs. "I was just gonna say, I knew all along. That we'd make a great team."

"A team, huh?" Lio says. "Galo, is your friendship metric entirely based off the other person's ability to beat you up?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Galo agrees. "So long as they're honourable about it!"

Lio raises an eyebrow. "I had my Promare flames."

"Sure, but those were a part of you, weren't they?"

A little wistful look flashes up over Lio's face, momentary flicker like candlelight, before it's gone again. "Yes," he says. "They were. And now they're not."

"You're still you," Galo says firmly. "Lio Fotia. Whatever happens, wherever you go, that won't change."

He’d set the entire world on fire with Lio, hadn’t he? For a bunch of important reasons, like saving all of humanity, but also because Lio asked. He’d pushed Lio’s fire back into him, that rush of heady, crackling heat pouring out. Something lifegiving. Rescue, rather than a condition requiring it. 

Galo's spent his whole life running towards fire, after all. Now he has Lio to greet him in the blaze, and run with him.

Lio shifts so he's face-to-face with Galo. Presses their forehead together. "Then thank you," Lio says, low and warm, "for being a place I can return to."

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to let me know what you thought in the comments!! you can find me on twitter [@ennezahard](https://twitter.com/ennezahard) and on tumblr [@delineative](https://delineative.tumblr.com), tumblr post of this fic is [here](https://delineative.tumblr.com/post/190261648030/fic-past-the-limit) ♡


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